The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen) novel Chapter 1480

Lysander's gaze rested upon Rosalind, the once clingy little girl who used to buzz around him, calling his name with every other breath. She had bloomed into adulthood, her upbringing in the artistic Whitman family evident in her learned grace and literary air.

Especially those eyes; once brimming with childish innocence, they now held a mature, captivating charm. They were like the deep, reflective pools of an autumn lake, hinting at a gentle and soulful spirit.

But no matter how much Rosalind had matured, in Lysander's eyes, she remained a child, a sister in his heart.

Lysander tried to pull his hand away from her gentle grasp, but his body felt as though it was held in place by an invisible force, and he could barely muster any strength. Even sitting up seemed an impossible task, his arm heavy as if filled with lead.

"Rosalind, you're still young. You should be with someone more... suitable," Lysander rasped, his eyes flickering down to where her fingers enclosed his wrist.

A tear lingered in Rosalind's eyes, halted by his words as if struck, but her impeccable manners allowed her to release his hand. With a soft and virtuous demeanor, she replied, "Lysander, I'm not that young anymore. I'm 25. Other women my age are already married with children."

Before Lysander could speak, Rosalind hurriedly cut him off, "You've just woken up, you're still very weak. You need time to recover. Don't worry about anything else; just focus on getting better."

"Yeah, Rosalind's got a point," chimed in Zephyr, smoothing over the tension. "You've only just come around. Getting your strength back is what's most important right now. Everything else can wait."

As they spoke, Dr. Funke entered the room. After examining Lysander, he concluded, "The patient has been unconscious for three years. His muscle memory has deteriorated, and his motor functions haven't fully returned. With a few days of rest and rehabilitation, he should gradually recover."

"Thank you, Dr. Funke," Zephyr said, a stark contrast to the anger he had first felt towards the doctor.

Downstairs, a puzzled Rosalind asked, "Are you really going to let me take credit for Thalassa's care? Once Lysander is better, the truth will come out. The staff at Royal Estates know it was Thalassa looking after him."

Rosalind had agreed to go along with Zephyr's version of events under pressure, without having had the chance to think it through. Faced with a tough situation, she had no choice but to rise to the challenge.

"Just keep looking after Lysander, and I'll handle the rest," Zephyr replied with a deep and commanding tone. He then summoned all the servants of Royal Estates and sternly addressed them, "For these past three years that Lysander has been in a coma, it was Rosalind who single-handedly cared for him. She fed him, washed him, and took care of every little thing. Thalassa never set foot in Royal Estates. If anyone dares to slip up, forget about staying in Starhaven."

Fitch looked on in surprise. "Sir, Ms. Everhart has been tirelessly..."

"Fitch, dock three months' pay! And if you want your family to go hungry, keep talking!" Zephyr's piercing gaze shot towards Fitch, his authority unyielding.